Yeah I'm not stalking you. // Stage3 Scene1deducing_freakSeptember 24 2011, 03:49:26 UTC
[If Sherlock had to pick a particular season he liked, it would be winter. Though most people would probably say it's because the cold was a good representation of his personality. He just liked how quiet it was. He could actually go outside more often as all the snow seemed to scare most people indoors, the London streets were left fairly vacant. This was the perfect time for the detective to stretch his legs and think.]
But stalkers make me feel so loved!mightbebloggingSeptember 24 2011, 04:06:45 UTC
[ Its not that John hated the winter, quite the contrary. The simple way the world was covered in a silent blanket of pure white, so calm and so peaceful was quite lovely. It was the cold he wasn't quite used to. Still... he couldn't deny that it was a simple, but nice thing to accompany Sherlock. Might as well have just been the two of them, empty as the streets were. ]
Bit nippy out. Knew I should have heeded Mrs. Hudson's advice and worn the scarf. [ He smirks a bit at himself. Despite her claims to be 'just the landlady,' she was certainly the motherly type to the two men. ]
Oh yay! No restraining order!deducing_freakSeptember 24 2011, 04:16:14 UTC
[He would have forgotten John was there had the man not spoke up. Sherlock was wandering about, both on the streets and in his own mind. Everything looked so different all covered in white. It was easy to forget just where they actually were.]
Well she did say it five times.
[Sherlock would only glance over at the man beside him. It was strange to suddenly have company with him everywhere, after being by himself for such a long time. But he appreciated it even though he was never very vocal about it. So he would stop, pulling his scarf off as he reached over to neatly place it around the doctor's neck.]
THAT would make such an adorable fan art. I've been browsing deviantart too much lately, haha.mightbebloggingSeptember 24 2011, 04:26:10 UTC
Five times, did she really? [ It wasn't that John had been ignoring her, per se - he doesn't do it nearly as much as Sherlock does, mind you, but he might have been tuning her out just a bit. Sure, might have been some part of him wanting to be 'manly,' in a primitive way, unconsciously. Me John. Me don't need no scarf. Oh, Sherlock would absolutely cringe at that grammar. As it was, he was surprised when his taller companion paused to lay his scarf about his neck. Touched, as well. ]
Oh, Sherlock, nonsense - I'll be alright. You're the world's only consulting crime detective after all - can't have you freezing to death. Lestrade alone would probably go mad, were you gone. Doctors like me are a dime a dozen.
Oh god. If I had a scanner I'd totally do it.deducing_freakSeptember 24 2011, 04:40:49 UTC
Exactly five. Then twice for the gloves.
[Had John actually said something like that, Sherlock probably would have suffered from some kind of brain aneurism. So just accept the detective's rare moment of consideration and wear the scarf.] I don't intend to head back any time soon and I'd much rather not have you complaining of the cold while we're out.
Besides, it's no trouble at all. [Once that was settled, he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and turns to continue walking again without giving John any more time to argue.]
I used to have a scanner. >.<mightbebloggingSeptember 24 2011, 05:15:53 UTC
[ No, not much point arguing with Sherlock. John's learned that the hard way before. Usually just ends up storming off to get some air for a while. Once the other has turned around, the good doctor can't help but allow a little smile to himself, and can't help but notice that the scarf smells a bit like Sherlock. Adjusting said scarf about his neck, he hurries along to catch up with him. His legs were longer, after all. ]
Used to have snowball fights, when I was a kid. [ He comments conversationally. ] I don't like to boast, of course, but I was rather good. Other kids knew better than to challenge me, or my sister, for that matter.
Same! But it scanned for crap. B[deducing_freakSeptember 24 2011, 05:30:16 UTC
[He hadn't heard John follow after him immediately, but sure enough those hurried steps came to catch up with him. There was some hint of a smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder to the one beside him. John had that reminiscent look to his face as he watched the doctor taking in the winter scenery around them.]
...snowball fight? [Sherlock only arched a brow at him with a look of confusion. The detective may have seemed to be all-knowing, but there were these rare moments when he absolutely no clue at all.]
I'm a bit poor at the moment, but I imagine I'll get another scanner eventually. mightbebloggingSeptember 24 2011, 16:17:37 UTC
[ John couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the confusion on his friend's face, and he shook his head a bit. ]
Don't worry, Sherlock - my boyish instincts aren't going to take over. I won't be stuffing any snow down your shirt today. [ Oh, and he'd done it as a child, both to other boys and girls. ] Sorry, I was just thinking aloud, I suppose. Of simpler times.
I take it you and Mycroft didn't participate in snowball fights on a regular basis, then?
scanners never seem to work right fr me B/deducing_freakSeptember 24 2011, 19:16:24 UTC
[Sherlock just sighed. His brother wasn't exactly the best topic of conversation for him.]
We never did get along all too well when we were children. We fought. But not in the snow. [Though he did remember seeing other kids going out to run around and play outside. Even as a kid he was something of a social outcast so he didn't quite participate much in what was most common for children his age. He didn't really see the point in chucking snow at one another. It was cold. your clothes would eventually get all wet. Then you'd get sick and have to stay inside while you had to take medicine.]
[ John nods, catching the hint. Its a shame the brothers don't get along as well now, but he knows not to push it. So, he just shoved his un-gloved hands into his pockets as he walked, his breath coming out in little clouds when he spoke. ]
Have you ever been in a snowball fight, Sherlock? Or made a snow-angel, or a snowman, for that matter? [ Oh, he was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he couldn't resist asking, and teasing him, just a bit. ]
Sounds ridiculous, whatever it is. [The man mumbled under his breath. He had never heard of such a thing. Or he did and simply pushed it out of his mind in order to make room for more important information.]
What... is it, exactly? [It was a little embarrassing for him to actually admit not knowing something, especially something so childish. But he couldn't help his curiosity and John seemed to be some kind of expert on the matter. It couldn't hurt to ask.]
[ John nodded, not surprised by Sherlock's opinion on the winter activities. ] Oh yes, completely ridiculous... but great fun, too, if you're a boy, I suppose.
[ He can't help but raise his brow up at his companion curiously. ] What is what? A snowball fight? Okay, well its... fairly self explanatory, really. Depending on how many people you have, there's normally two teams. You can make snow forts too - oh, we built some really good ones. Basically, you just... pummel the other team with snowballs. The rules are fairly unofficial. No physical contact. Kept us entertained until our lips were blue or we almost suffered from frostbite.
[The concept certainly seemed simple enough. As it should. It was a children's game. No wonder there were no real official rules. Most adults couldn't pay attention so he highly doubted that a child would be able to. The detective would stop in his steps for a moment, actually kneeling down as he grabbed a good handful of snow in his hands before he continued to move on. There was no sign of any suspicious behavior as Sherlock seemed to be inspecting the aerodynamics of the snowball he just compacted with his hands.]
Interesting... you know, this could really hurt if you threw it too hard. It's practically just a block of ice.
[ John pauses a couple steps ahead to turn around and see what Sherlock is up to. One will imagine his surprise, then, when he sees his companion oh-so-seriously tightly compacting the snow in his hands. Instinctively, John steps a bit to the side and continues on, suspicious at first... but then inwardly chiding himself for it. Sherlock Holmes, throw a snowball at him? Ridiculous. ]
Well, children aren't really capable of compacting it quite that tightly, I suppose. Yours would be perfect, of course, and what with your aim... I wouldn't be surprised if that snowball was fatal, in your hands.
[As fatal as this seemingly harmless projectile may seem, the temptation was still there. Sherlock begins to walk again, albeit at a much slower pace as he mulls over the scenario in his mind. Perhaps now would be time to conduct an experiment. As it were it was really only the two of them walking around, save for the random car that may pass by every so often. Sherlock looked up, watching as John was a few steps ahead of him now. A shot to the back of the head would be a bit much. Either leg could cause him to trip and do that much more harm then intended. He'd narrow his eyes, finding the perfect target for attack. Without any warning he pulled back and threw the snowball right at John's back.]
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Bit nippy out. Knew I should have heeded Mrs. Hudson's advice and worn the scarf. [ He smirks a bit at himself. Despite her claims to be 'just the landlady,' she was certainly the motherly type to the two men. ]
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Well she did say it five times.
[Sherlock would only glance over at the man beside him. It was strange to suddenly have company with him everywhere, after being by himself for such a long time. But he appreciated it even though he was never very vocal about it. So he would stop, pulling his scarf off as he reached over to neatly place it around the doctor's neck.]
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Oh, Sherlock, nonsense - I'll be alright. You're the world's only consulting crime detective after all - can't have you freezing to death. Lestrade alone would probably go mad, were you gone. Doctors like me are a dime a dozen.
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[Had John actually said something like that, Sherlock probably would have suffered from some kind of brain aneurism. So just accept the detective's rare moment of consideration and wear the scarf.] I don't intend to head back any time soon and I'd much rather not have you complaining of the cold while we're out.
Besides, it's no trouble at all. [Once that was settled, he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and turns to continue walking again without giving John any more time to argue.]
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Used to have snowball fights, when I was a kid. [ He comments conversationally. ] I don't like to boast, of course, but I was rather good. Other kids knew better than to challenge me, or my sister, for that matter.
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...snowball fight? [Sherlock only arched a brow at him with a look of confusion. The detective may have seemed to be all-knowing, but there were these rare moments when he absolutely no clue at all.]
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Don't worry, Sherlock - my boyish instincts aren't going to take over. I won't be stuffing any snow down your shirt today. [ Oh, and he'd done it as a child, both to other boys and girls. ] Sorry, I was just thinking aloud, I suppose. Of simpler times.
I take it you and Mycroft didn't participate in snowball fights on a regular basis, then?
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We never did get along all too well when we were children. We fought. But not in the snow. [Though he did remember seeing other kids going out to run around and play outside. Even as a kid he was something of a social outcast so he didn't quite participate much in what was most common for children his age. He didn't really see the point in chucking snow at one another. It was cold. your clothes would eventually get all wet. Then you'd get sick and have to stay inside while you had to take medicine.]
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Have you ever been in a snowball fight, Sherlock? Or made a snow-angel, or a snowman, for that matter? [ Oh, he was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he couldn't resist asking, and teasing him, just a bit. ]
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What... is it, exactly? [It was a little embarrassing for him to actually admit not knowing something, especially something so childish. But he couldn't help his curiosity and John seemed to be some kind of expert on the matter. It couldn't hurt to ask.]
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[ He can't help but raise his brow up at his companion curiously. ] What is what? A snowball fight? Okay, well its... fairly self explanatory, really. Depending on how many people you have, there's normally two teams. You can make snow forts too - oh, we built some really good ones. Basically, you just... pummel the other team with snowballs. The rules are fairly unofficial. No physical contact. Kept us entertained until our lips were blue or we almost suffered from frostbite.
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Interesting... you know, this could really hurt if you threw it too hard. It's practically just a block of ice.
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Well, children aren't really capable of compacting it quite that tightly, I suppose. Yours would be perfect, of course, and what with your aim... I wouldn't be surprised if that snowball was fatal, in your hands.
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